Got a text from Julius at 8 PM, “ferry tomorrow
at 7 AM?” Then a VM, guess I forgot to confirm final departure plan for July 4
BRS Ride Around Whidbey, thus the messages. It’s 3:20 AM, been up since 1 AM.
That is what happens when you go to bed at 7 PM. I give up. Have to get ready
for the ride in a couple of hours anyway. I resist the urge to drink more
Scotch and instead have oatmeal and fried eggwhites with diet coke.
Read an email from Ocean about embracing
Nothingness. Apparently I’m not the only one who would get an F in philosophy
class, but listening to Ocean is a bit like trying to understand religion or a
math theorem or that 3-D picture of sharks in my living room. It’s there but I
can’t see it.
Read Tim Olsen’s race report on his record
breaking run at this years WS100, and this interesting link entitled, “My Path to Contentment: From Addict to Awakened
Ultrarunner”
Does contentment lie in being “awakened”,
hyperaware like turning on the lights and seeing all, even the cockroaches? Or
does it lie in being unconscious as many hours as possible because
consciousness is fundamentally incompatible with peace? To me existing is like
having to sit through a sermon in a tight, itchy suit. Every minute. Running,
biking swigging, and sleeping, the only relief. Give up or fight.
Had only ridden 3 times this year, still tired
from the 50 miles in Redmond/ Duvall/ Carnation with Julius the week prior,
seriously out of biking shape.
One thing about having a bigger furnace (riding
with the built-in pannier) is needing more fuel constantly. Still you cannot
help but feel the shingles flaking off one by one as you tick off feet of elevation. Whidbey doesn’t mess around…
and it never gets old. It was a beautiful day and there were even fewer cars
than usual, life doesn’t get much better than a ferry ride and Whidbey ride on
a Wednesday.
Yesterday met Dyno for his club ride in
Everett. The day started off well with a hearty breakfast at Saw Mill cafe.
I did end up attempting the Lord Hill 50k trail run the day before but knew after
20 miles and 3400 ft climbing I'd better DNF and save something for the ride and hike the
next day. He assured me there would be riders of all speeds there, but actually
the slowest guy was a 65 year old still pulling 21 mph into a headwind. I still
maintain that the pain experienced riding surpasses any run- but the high also
greater. I not-so-secretly enjoy being the sole girl riding with a bunch of
strong guys because the best way to get better is busting your lungs trying to
keep up. You can run alone, but if you get dropped by the peloton you die. The
guys, instead of being annoyed at having to slow down for me, seem to adopt me
like a mascot, doing sheep dog laps and pulling me along after I get dropped on
the hills. They’re just happy to be back on the bike and so am I.
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